Dreamsome
by chessqueen
Summary: COMPLETED. Future Fic. Tristan/Rory. This story is in response to a challenge - 1. The story must be more than 10 years into the future. 2. They have to be divorced. 3. Tristan must be the CEO of DuGrey Incorporated. 4. Etc.
1. Default Chapter

     Rory Gilmore was drowning in manuscripts.  They were on her desk, the chairs, the floor, her bookshelves.  Being a book editor at Random House wasn't a glamorous job but it did have its rewards.  She still got a thrill whenever she discovered new writing talent or when she tweaked a manuscript just right that it seemed to magically come together.  The writers she worked with were an interesting group and all were pretty easy-going except for a certain political/current affairs writer named Paris Gellar who had been her best friend, classmate, and main rival at Chilton.

It was a sunny Tuesday morning; Rory was sitting at her desk editing a Madonna tell-all when the phone rang.

"Hello, Rory Gilmore speaking," she said as she cradled the telephone receiver between her ear and shoulder while reaching for her cup of coffee.

"Well," Lane Kim, her childhood friend, said without preamble.

"Well what?"

"You know well what.  Did Tristan send you flowers again today?"  Tristan was Tristan DuGrey, Rory's ex-husband and the president and CEO of DuGrey Incorporated.  For the past two weeks he'd been sending roses to her office every day.  When Rory had tried to dissuade him from doing this, he'd begun sending **two **bouquets a day.

"No, but this morning a guy from Tiffany's delivered this beautiful diamond tennis bracelet."

"No way."

"Way."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know.  I don't want to hurt Tristan's feelings but I don't love him anymore."

"Are you sure?"  Lane asked.  "Because you haven't been on a single date since the divorce."

"I don't have time to date.  I'm a single working mother with two kids."

     "That doesn't mean you have to become a nun."

"I'm not lucky in love, besides some people are just meant to be alone."

"You honestly don't believe that, do you?  I wouldn't be a good friend if I didn't point out that you seem to be emotionally stuck – you won't move forward but you obviously can't go back."

"Look, I'm really sorry for burdening you with my problems.  I can't talk to my mom about this because she's so happy with Max and I don't want to bring her down.  I can't talk to Paris because she and Tristan travel in the same social circles and I don't want her carrying around our emotional baggage."

"Hey, it's okay.  I don't mind listening to your problems.  I'm worried about you, that's all.  You're my best friend, I just want you to be happy."

Happiness, Rory Gilmore thought after hanging up the phone, was a fickle and fleeting thing.  She'd been happy when she and Tristan had reunited at Yale.  She'd been happy when they'd gotten married.  She'd been ecstatic when Alex and Hannah were born.  Their lives had started out blissfully simple enough.  After graduation they'd moved to New York setting up house in a tiny apartment in the Village.  Tristan had been working for Goldman Sachs and she'd been hired as an editorial assistant at Random House.  Four years later Alex was born and their respective careers had started taking off.  Then out of the blue Tristan's father called.  He wanted Tristan to take over DuGrey Incorporated.  Once Tristan became president, he started spending more and more time at the office.  Rory knew it wasn't another woman; if it had been, maybe she could have said or done **something** about it.  Instead, their problems stemmed from Tristan's need to prove to his father that he wasn't some deadbeat rich kid squandering daddy's hard earned money.  After years of putting up with this, Rory finally realized that she couldn't compete with Tristan's demons.  Thus, she packed up the kids and left, later filing for divorce citing irreconcilable differences.

**Now** Tristan wanted to get back together.  Well, she couldn't.  She couldn't go through that pain and loneliness again and she wouldn't put her children through that hell again either.  


	2. Chapter 2

      Rory looked down at her watch.  It was 4:30pm and she had to pick up Alex and Hannah at 5:30.  Just as she was gathering her things to leave the office, the phone rang.

      "Rory Gilmore speaking."

      "How's it going Mrs. DuGrey?"

      "Tristan, what do you want?"

      "It's nice to talk to you too.  I'm doing well by the way, thank you for asking."

      "I haven't got time for this.  I have to pick up Alex and Hannah."

      "I've taken care of that, Claire will pick up the kids."

      "That's not your housekeeper's job and how dare you ask her to do something like that without consulting me first."

      "You're right, I apologize but I had to move quickly.  If you don't jump on a deal, you'll lose it."

      "What does this have to do with me and the kids?"

      "I need to see you tonight."

      "Tristan," Rory cut in.

      "I really need to see you.  If you could look through the phone, you'd see me on my knees begging.  Meet me at Serendipity 3?  Please."

      "Tristan."

      "Rory please."

      "What time?"

      "6:30."

      "I'll see you then."

      As she rushed down 3rd Avenue, all Rory could think about was her impending meeting with Tristan.  She knew she needed to talk to him, to make him understand that she didn't love him anymore but she dreaded having to tell him that.  Upon entering the restaurant, she saw Tristan sitting at a table in the back, two mugs sitting in front of him.  Probably frozen espresso, my favorite drink, she thought.  Serendipity 3 was famous for its desserts especially its frozen hot chocolate.  As usual, it was bright, crowded, and smelled like sugar.  The place was full of tourists and the décor was a little too cutesy for her taste but she'd absolutely loved the restaurant when she'd first moved to New York.  

      "Mary," he said huskily.

      "Don't start," Rory said as she sat down.  She could still remember the first time he'd called her that.  It was her first year at Chilton and she'd hated it.  She'd been dating Dean at the time and though she thought Tristan was cute, she'd found him extremely cocky.  Then one night at a Chilton party, she'd seen the real Tristan, the vulnerable guy behind the arrogant and cocky façade.

      "One of us has to start.  Rory, I love you.  I always have, I always will.  I think you still love me too, at least I'm hoping you do," he said grabbing her hands.

      Immediately she pulled her hands away.  "Tristan don't."

      "Rory I love you."

      "God Tristan, don't make me say it."

      "Say what?"

      "I don't love you.  And even if I did, a relationship between us wouldn't work."

      "Of course it would."

      "No, it wouldn't.  Are you willing to stop working so much because before you were hardly home?"

      "I wasn't away that much."

      "Yes you were.  I know because I remember spending a lot of time alone."

      "I was trying to build a future for us, for Alex and Hannah.  You wouldn't want them struggling, would you?"

      "Of course not.  But I'd rather they did without designer clothes and toys if it would have kept you home."

      "You're living in a very nice townhouse in Soho.  You really can't be all that against me working hard."

      "That house is for your children.  Besides, I would have been perfectly happy in a small house in Hartford."

      "Hartford!  Nothing happens in Hartford.  I would never have been able to build up DuGrey Incorporated in Hartford."

      "When we were in college, you said you didn't want to be like your father.  You said you wanted to be your own man, do your own thing, change the world."

      "Rory, your life is considerably better because I went to work for my father's company."

      My life is considerably better!  I didn't want that life," Rory said then stood up.  "You didn't do those things for me.  You didn't even do them for our children.  You did them to prove to your father that you weren't irresponsible and spoiled.  I loved you for the man you were.  I loved that guy who wanted to start his own business.  I loved that guy who wanted to backpack across Europe and I would have followed him to the other side of the world if he'd asked me to."  

      "Rory."

      "Don't Rory me.  When you come over this weekend to pick up Alex and Hannah, you can pick up that bracelet as well.  I don't have a need for it," she said then turned and walked out of the restaurant.


	3. Chapter 3

Rory was able to flag down a cab quickly, a major feat in New York City. After giving the driver her address in Soho, she settled back into the seat. As hard as she tried to stop them, the tears slowly fell down her face. She couldn't believe Tristan's nerve. She'd loved him and had tried showing him how much, but her love hadn't been enough for him. The scenes outside the cab's windows were a blur. But neither the car's speed nor her tears could totally block out the young mothers pushing their children in strollers or the couples holding hands. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on her. The happy scenes taking place outside contrasted considerably with the emotional meltdown she was experiencing inside the cab. Those people's lives were just beginning while she felt as if hers had already ended.  
  
Hopping out of the cab, Rory quickly ran up the townhouse's front stairs and let herself in. Claire would be dropping off the kids soon and she didn't want her or the kids seeing her looking like this. She quickly threw off her clothes, put on a bathrobe, poured herself a glass of wine, and drew herself a bath. As the steam filled the bathroom, Rory could feel herself relaxing.  
  
Suddenly the doorbell rang. "Coming," she said as she ran down the stairs. She could see Alex's and Hannah's silhouettes through the frosted glass door. "Hey you two," she said as she threw open the door. She caught her breath when she saw Tristan standing at the door as well. "Tristan," she said breathlessly.  
  
"Hey," he said softly, shyly.  
  
"Mom, are we really going to go live in a hat?" five-year-old Hannah asked as she stomped past Rory into the foyer.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Dad said we're going to go packing in Fez and Alex said fez is a hat. How can all of us fit inside of a hat? Where will we go to the bathroom?" Hannah asked raising and dropping her hands in exasperation.  
  
"Fez is a city in Morocco. What is this about Fez?" Rory asked turning to face Tristan.  
  
"May I come in first?"  
  
"Sure," Rory said moving aside then closing the door behind him. "So what is this about Fez?"  
  
"I was thinking maybe we could go to Fez this summer. I remember you told me once that you'd planned to visit with your mom. Granted I'm no Lorelai Gilmore but I was hoping you'd go with me."  
  
"Tristan please."  
  
"Please what? Please don't talk about this? I won't. Love you? I can't. You were right about me taking over DuGrey Incorporated because of my father. I realize my mistake, and I'm trying to rectify it."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really. I'm prepared to go into work tomorrow and give the Board my resignation."  
  
"I don't know what to say."  
  
"Say you'll come with me."  
  
"Tristan."  
  
"Not only that, I'm willing to move anyplace in the world you want to live. Don't give me your answer now unless it's 'yes.' Promise me you'll think about it. Okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"I'll call you tomorrow."  
  
"Bye."  
  
"Bye," Tristan said then opened the door, stepped outside, and closed the door behind him.  
  
Rory ran upstairs to climb into the hot bath. Tristan resigning. Morocco. Living anywhere in the world, her choice. This was too much to process. Lying back in the tub, the hot, soapy water covering her body, she smiled as she thought of Tristan on their wedding day, the day they'd moved into that apartment in the Village, the days Alex and Hannah were born. He'd been so loving and protective of her and the children in the beginning as if he were afraid something would happen to them. Maybe Lane was right, maybe she was still in love with him. No one could rile her, make her react like he could. Even when things were at their worst between them, she'd still wanted the best for him. Yet, was her love strong enough to risk possibly getting her heart broken again?  
  
Rory climbed out of the tub and dried herself off. After wrapping herself in her bathrobe, she padded downstairs to her home office. Sitting at her computer, she logged onto the internet to check her email. As she scrolled through the messages, she came across a message from Lane with the subject heading "Risks." She clicked on it and there was this poem, author unknown:  
  
To laugh is to risk appearing the fool/To weep is risk appearing sentimental/To reach out to another is to risk involvement/To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self/To place your ideas, your dreams, before a crowd is to risk their loss/To risk love is to risk being loved in return/To live is to risk dying/To hope is to risk despair/To try is to risk failure/But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing/They may avoid suffering and sorrow but they cannot learn, feel, change, grow, love, or live/Chained by their attitudes, they are slaves/They have forfeited their freedom/Only a person who risks is free.  
  
Sitting at her desk the next morning, her bagel untouched, her coffee turning cold, Rory tapped her pen against the mahogany surface of the desk. Waiting for Tristan to call was torture. Of course being a modern woman she could just call him. She hesitated then slowly picked up the phone and dialed his office. On the second ring, his secretary Margaret answered.  
  
"Mr. DuGrey's office, Margaret speaking. How my I help you?"  
  
"Hello Margaret. This is Rory Gilmore. Is Tristan there?"  
  
"Rory Gilmore?"  
  
"Tristan's ex-wife."  
  
"Hello Mrs. DuGrey. Yes, he's in. I'll connect you, please hold."  
  
"Thanks." It was funny how Tristan's older employees insisted upon calling her Mrs. DuGrey. The state of New York, her mom, and Tristan's parents may have recognized their divorce, but not the older employees.  
  
"Rory?" Tristan picked up the line a few seconds later.  
  
"Tristan, I was wondering if we could meet for lunch. Maybe grab a hotdog in Central Park?"  
  
"Sure. How does 1:00 sound? I have a few things to attend to this morning but I'll be free this afternoon."  
  
"That sounds great. Meet me at the north end of the Pool."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Bye." 


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Regarding the poem "Risks" in the previous chapter, I surfed the Web trying to find out who the author is but I came across no less than 5 websites listing 5 different people as the author, so I listed the author as unknown in the story which interestingly enough was listed as the official author on two other websites. No copyright infringement was intended with respect to my use of the poem.  
  
Thanks for all the wonderful feedback. Some have said that the chapters are a little too short, I agree. I didn't realize how short they were until I looked at the story in its posted form. Should I write another story, I will definitely keep this in mind. Thanks again.  
  
Some one asked me what is the difference between a tennis bracelet and a regular bracelet. A tennis bracelet is a diamond line bracelet. According to EM Smith Jewelers of Chillicothe, Ohio, legend has it that tennis star Chris Evert used to regularly wear a diamond line bracelet. During a nationally televised match, she lost the bracelet and play was suspended while she looked for it on the court. Afterwards, the diamond line bracelet became popularly known as the "tennis bracelet."  
  
Central Park in early summer was positively beautiful. And on a 70- degree day it was positively crowded with people as well. Walking across the park with the sun shining on her face, the tree leaves blowing in the wind, and the smell of grass in the air, Rory could see Tristan in the distance talking to a hotdog vendor. When she got closer, he immediately turned to face her.  
  
"Hey," he said then smiled nervously.  
  
"Hey."  
  
"Do you want a hotdog?" he asked gesturing toward the cart.  
  
"No thank you, I'm not really hungry."  
  
"Okay," Tristan said. After a few awkward minutes of silence, he turned to her and said "Well?"  
  
"Do you believe in fate?" Rory asked as they approached a bench near the pond and sat down.  
  
"When it comes to us, yes."  
  
"I don't want to. I like to think that people control their own destinies. But maybe some things are meant to be." She stopped. Was she doing the right thing, she wondered. Then she looked into Tristan's eyes and she knew she had to press on. "I'm not asking you to give up your job completely but I'd love it if you could find a way to spend more time with me and the kids."  
  
"I'm sorry but it's too late."  
  
A thousand clichés flooded her mind. His words cut like a knife. It felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. It seemed as if the ground had fallen away from under her.  
  
"No, I'm sorry Tristan. I knew you wouldn't wait for me forever," she said turning away quickly.  
  
"No. No. You don't understand. I resigned from DuGrey Incorporated this morning, so I'm officially unemployed. I have all the time in the world to spend with you; are you sure you want to spend it with me?"  
  
"Tristan," Rory began, her eyes filling with tears. Slowly she rose from the bench then got down on one knee.  
  
"Rory, what are you doing?"  
  
"Tristan," she said grabbing his hands. "I'm not sure a relationship between us would work, but I'm willing to give it a try. What I am sure of is that my life is considerably better because I've had the honor of loving you." Tristan sat silently for what seemed like an eternity. "Well?" Rory asked visibly shaken.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Okay!"  
  
"Okay."  
  
Rory jumped up then threw her arms around his neck. Tristan, stunned, rose slowly putting his arms around her waist and drawing her close.  
  
"I love you Mrs. DuGrey."  
  
"I love you more, Mr. DuGrey," Rory said as she stood on tiptoe gently brushing her mouth against his. 


End file.
